


Tales of the Travelling Tennis Ball

by SolosOrca



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolosOrca/pseuds/SolosOrca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short ficlets documenting some of the travels of the Valentine’s Day Tennis Ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of the Travelling Tennis Ball

Had Ryoma realised that today was Valentine’s Day he would have skipped school entirely. He arrived at morning practice to find more girls than usual gathered around the fence, all giggling and twittering. Ryoma ignored the few that rushed up to him and headed straight for the clubroom.

Valentine’s Day was exhausting. If you accepted gifts from the girls they’d giggle and make high pitched noises and if you didn’t they’d get upset and that was even worse. And then, he’d go back home and get pestered by his dad about how much chocolate he’d received.

It was, in Ryoma’s opinion, the worst day of the year.

He suffered through the rest of the day, disposing off his chocolate by ripping off the labels with his name on and shoving the beautifully wrapped chocolate into Momo’s locker. Thankfully, he only had to turn down a few girls and only one of those ran off in tears.

Tennis practice shone like a bright light at the end of the long, exhausting tunnel of the rest of the school day. Tennis practice where the girls would be too scared of Tezuka to cross the fence lines and venture into the tennis courts.

“What have you bought Tezuka?” Fuji asked as they warmed up together and Ryoma wished he’d been more insistent about not warming up with him.

“Nothing,” Ryoma replied, “we’re not together.”

He knew exactly what Fuji was getting at. Tezuka had kissed him at the party the Regulars had organised to celebrate Ryoma’s birthday and Christmas. Except, Ryoma’s dad had shown up too and somehow alcohol had made it’s way into Tezuka’s drink and Tezuka, it turned out, was a complete lightweight. Then some mistletoe had appeared above Tezuka and himself and Tezuka had kissed him. And Ryoma had melted.

His face flushed as he remembered the feeling of Tezuka’s lips against his own and the press of Tezuka’s large, warm hand on the small of his back. He tugged his cap down to hide his face- sure that it must be glowing- and scuttled off to stand next to Tezuka, where he could bask in his radiated calmness.

Tezuka nodded at him as he reached his side. “We’ll be having a match next,” he said, indicating the doubles match between the Golden Pair and Inui and Kaidoh. By the looks of it, it was a very close match.

Ryoma tried to focus on the match in front of him, but it was hard not to keep sneaking glances at Tezuka.

After their drunken kiss, Tezuka had passed out and Ryoma had spent the rest of the party shouting at his father for getting his captain drunk. Tezuka had never mentioned it again, so Ryoma assumed he didn’t remember it. Which sucked because it had been his first kiss and it had been with someone who didn’t remember it.

He wished his didn’t care about things like ‘first kisses’, but he’d always wished that it had been with Tezuka and it hurt that Tezuka couldn’t remember. Especially since now he had to work to get Tezuka to kiss him again.

The doubles match ended and it was only when Tezuka nudged him that he came back to the real world.

“I hope you won’t be this distracted during our match,” Tezuka said and Ryoma felt his face heat up again. Tezuka looked like he wanted to ask something else, but was having an internal battle about whether to or not.

“I won’t,” Ryoma replied. It was impossible to be distracted whilst playing against Tezuka.

Later, after what would rank in Ryoma’s mind as one of the greatest tennis matches of his life, Ryoma leant against the clubroom door, tossing the ball from the match from one hand to the other.

He was going to make a move on Tezuka.

Tezuka was currently inside the clubroom, changing and the knot in Ryoma’s stomach got tighter and tighter the longer he waited. He wasn’t sure how he was going to ask Tezuka out, just that, but the end of this afternoon, Tezuka was going to be his boyfriend.

He heard movement from inside and slipped into the shadows as Fuji, Oishi and Kikumaru left the clubroom leaving just Tezuka alone inside.

Ryoma couldn’t help but be suspicious that Tezuka was setting this all up for him, but right now he didn’t care. He slipped in and saw Tezuka, shirtless and packing away his racquets. Ryoma took a moment to admire his captain’s back, all strong lines and muscles. He wanted to press his head against it or lick it- right now he wasn’t sure which.

“Did you forget something?” Tezuka asked.

“Yes,” Ryoma replied, walking purposefully over to Tezuka and jumping onto the bench. He was rather annoyed to find that, even standing on the bench, he was only just taller than Tezuka.

Tezuka watched him with a look somewhere between confusion and amusement as he stabled himself and turned to face him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, holding out the tennis ball.

“Thank you,” Tezuka said, taking the ball.

“You should kiss me now,” Ryoma told him.

“Shouldn’t you wait till White Day?”

Ryoma pouted, “I can’t wait a month for you to kiss me.”

To his utter amazement, Tezuka chuckled. It was a soft, deep sound that made bits of Ryoma get warm and turn to goo. Instead of swooning into him, Ryoma slipped his hands onto Tezuka’s strong, warm and damp shoulders. Tezuka’s own arms wrapped around Ryoma’s waist, pulling him close so that their bodies were pressed against each other.

This kiss, Ryoma decided, was already much better than the last.

Tezuka pressed his lips carefully against Ryoma’s. It was short and chaste, but didn’t stop Ryoma turning into a puddle in Tezuka’s arms.

“Ice cream?” Ryoma suggested when they’d pulled apart.

“In February?”

“Ice cream’s always good,” Ryoma replied, his heart skipping when Tezuka’s lips twitched into a smile.

* * *

A year later and Tezuka was in Germany and Ryoma was in America. Separated by an ocean.

Tezuka sat at his desk, looking at the scuffed tennis ball in front of him. It was the one from Valentine’s Day a year ago, the one Ryoma had given to him. And now, Tezuka was going to send it back.

He felt a bit guilty that the ball was actually stolen Seigaku property, but no one had ever asked about it -no one apart from himself and Ryoma knew about it- so it didn’t really matter. He was sure most people wouldn’t have worried at all about having a stolen tennis ball, for Tezuka it sent a small thrill up his spine.

He took up his pen and wrote on a small card:

Dear Ryoma,

I owe you a match.

Tezuka.

It wasn’t the best note and didn’t convey any of his feelings. He added:

P.S. Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry for the lack of grand gestures.

He looked down at his work and the packed the note and tennis ball carefully into the box waiting at his side.

The next day, Tezuka took it to the post office and it arrived with Ryoma the day before Valentine’s Day.

When he opened it, Ryoma laughed.

* * *

Kevin Smith laughed so hard he started crying when Ryoma made a beeline for the offensively pink shop in the mall.

Ryoma made his way into the shop, looking determinedly at the floor and wishing he had thought to bring his cap to hide behind.

There were so many pink things covered in hearts and flowers that he didn’t know where to look first. He had a vague idea what he wanted, but if he saw anything horrifically tackily perfect, he was willing to modify his plan.

“Is this for Captain Robot?” Kevin asked.

“I’m not buying anything for you,” Ryoma snapped back, looking an unsettling cat toy holding a giant heart.

“How about this?” Kevin suggested, holding up a pair of dice currently displaying ‘sex’ and ‘for 5 minutes’.

“Wow, 5 minutes? I don’t think I can last that long,” Ryoma said and Kevin smirked. “I’ll have to modify it before I send it to him,” he said, snatching the dice out of Kevin’s hand, “he’s too innocent for them.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “So, what else do you need?”

“Wrapping paper and sparkly things to go in it.”

They found a whole wall of wrapping paper, each more disgusting than the last. In the end, Ryoma settled on a shocking pink sparkly paper covered in red hearts. He also bought a bag full of red plastic hearts and one with several little fabric roses in.

Kevin continued to laugh at him all the way back to school, but Ryoma ignored him. He was too focused on imagining Tezuka’s face when he received a old, scruffy tennis ball, wrapped in the tackiest paper Ryoma could find and covered in tat.  

Later, as he packed up the parcel, he grinned as he looked at his handiwork  on the dice. One read ‘tennis’ on every side, the other ‘now’.

* * *

A few years later, Ryoma was stood in the kitchen of his and Tezuka’s New York flat, a tennis ball in each hand. It was his turn to give the tennis ball and he was deciding whether to replace the scruffy school ball with the less scruffy ball from the US Open.

Maybe it was time to retire the Seigaku ball and leave it to live out the rest of its days in the trophy cabinet. It had travelled many thousands of miles, hopping back and forth over the Atlantic every year, it could probably do with a rest.

But that made it even more special. The ball in his left hand many have won him the US Open, but the one in his right had been with them since their Seigaku days. Since their second first kiss.

He put the US Open ball away and stowed the Seigaku ball in the bouquet of red tulips.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Ryoma asked later that evening when he was sprawled across Tezuka’s lap, Karupin curled up on his chest.

“I could hardly forget you cornering me after practice,” Tezuka replied, “or you giving me this,” he indicated the tennis ball.

“I meant our _first_ first kiss,” Ryoma said, “that was our second one.”

Tezuka frowned, obviously racking his brains.

“You were drunk,” Ryoma added helpfully, “and there was mistletoe.”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember it,” Tezuka said.

Ryoma shrugged, “I didn’t expect you to, you did pass out right after it.”

“It was at your birthday party?” Tezuka asked. “Fuji told me my tea was spiked.”

“Yeah, that was my dad.”

“Oh. I always thought it had been Fuji. I should apologise to him next time I see him.”

Ryoma laughed, it had been such a Tezuka-ry thing to say. “Don’t bother, if my dad hadn’t done it, Fuji would have. He was the one who put mistletoe above us and made us kiss.”

“Was it a good kiss?”

Ryoma considered it for a moment. “Not as good as our second first kiss.”

* * *

It was breakfast in the Echizen-Tezuka household. Tezuka, as usual, was up first, the morning paper spread out on the kitchen counter as he cooked breakfast. Sat by his feet was Rex, the 1 year old black labrador, gazing up at him with his patented pleading labrador eyes, hoping Tezuka would take pity on him and feed everyone’s breakfast to him.

Tezuka gave him the look he gave Ryoma when he wanted to play tennis at midnight and patted him on the head. The dog seemed satisfied with this and rolled onto his back, now begging for a belly rub.

Tezuka sighed, he was as good at resisting those big brown eyes as he was resisting Ryoma’s. He used a foot to rub Rex’s belly until the rice cooker beeped.

Once he’d decanted the rice, his attention turned to the tennis ball sat on the counter. He hadn’t worked out a way to give it to Ryoma. Ryoma always came up with romantic ways to surprise him with the tennis ball. Tezuka assumed it had started as a way to subtly poke fun at him and the became habit as Ryoma hated to be outdone, least of all by his past selves.

Tezuka was a much more romantic person than Ryoma, but he found it hard to think up elaborate schemes. And, well, nothing he could give Ryoma could possibly sum up his feelings towards the other man. Roses were beautiful whilst they lasted, but soon wilted away and how could a flower represent how deeply he loved Ryoma? And yet, somehow Ryoma could make it work.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and a moment last Shizue, his 8 year old daughter, walked in, Princess, her huge black and white Norwegian Forest cat, in her arms. Biologically -and only biologically- Shizue was Ryoma’s niece and had inherited the black hair, large hazel eyes and tennis skills that must be dominate in the Echizen genes.

“Good morning,” Tezuka said as she deposited Princess on the kitchen table and sat on her chair.

“Good morning, Dad,” Shizue replied. “Good morning, Rex,” she added as the dog scampered over to greet her as if he hadn’t seen her for several years.

“Are your brother and dad awake yet?”

“I heard Kunikazu playing with his dinosaurs,” Shizue said. “I dunno about Dad,” she added, looking at the clock, “he’ll be asleep.”

Tezuka sighed, “he’s taking the pair of you to school today.” He served up her breakfast and gave it to her before picking up the tennis ball. “I’ll wake them up,” he said, calling Rex after him.

First, he walked past Kunikazu’s room, where the distinctive noise of a large battle between dinosaurs and trains was floating through the door.

“Kunikaze,” Tezuka called, knocking on the door, “breakfast is ready.”

“Thanks Dad!” Kunikazu replied. There was a clatter and the door flew open revealing his blond haired, blue eyed son. Rex jumped up at him, trying to lick his face.

“He needs his breakfast too,” Tezuka told him as Kunikazu fussed over the dog.

“I’ll start it,” Kunikazu said, charging off downstairs, Rex bouncing behind him.

Tezuka smiled and shook his head, wondering how his son had quite so much energy in the mornings. Now, he just had one other member of the household to get into the kitchen. He’d planned on putting Rex in bed with Ryoma and letting the over excited dog wake him up, but now he had to do it himself.

“Ryoma,” He said, turning on the light to see the bulge in the blankets indicating where his husband was sleeping.

Ryoma made a noise somewhere between a groan and human speech and the blankets shifted as he rolled over.

“I have a present for you,” Tezuka said, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing what he hoped was Ryoma’s back.

Ryoma didn’t reply right away, obviously working out why Tezuka had a present for him and if said present could possibly be sex. “It’s Valentine’s Day?” he asked his tousled head emerging from under the duvet.

“It is,” Tezuka replied, leaning down to kiss Ryoma softly before presenting him with the tennis ball.

Ryoma took it with a smile. “Best Valentine’s gift ever,” he said sincerely and then pulled Tezuka down for another kiss.


End file.
